The shriveled and dried tuberous roots of Ranunculus are not much to brag about. They look more like dehydrated mini calamari than dormant and viable spring bulbs. Yet, they somehow bloom as soon as the weather warms enough after winter. Although they need no vernalization, they need time to grow. Bulbs should be into their garden by December.
Alternatively, small budding plants will be available from nurseries after winter. They are too big for cell packs, so are mostly in four inch pots. Larger one gallon plants often have shabby foliage. Although popular as annuals, Ranunculus can be reliably perennial like other bulbs. They are less susceptible to rot if dug and stored while dormant for summer.
Ranunculus bloom is white, yellow, orange, red, pink or purple. The plump flowers have many papery and densely set petals, like small peonies. They typically stand less than a foot high, and may be only half a foot high. Their finely textured basal foliage stays even lower. It resembles parsley, but is a bit more substantial. It shrivels during warm weather.
Spring bulbs obviously bloom for spring. Less obviously, they vernalize with winter chill. They are seasonable about now because this is when they should get into their gardens. Many prefer to be interred into their shallow graves by Halloween. Many can wait as late as New Year’s Day. If too much later, some may not experience enough chill to vernalize.
Planting spring bulbs can be ungratifying because there is nothing to see afterward. After all, they are dormant at the time. They lack foliage or any other parts to extend above the surface of the soil. They seem to remain inactive until they bloom as winter succumbs to spring. However, between now and then, they will secretly reset before resuming growth.
Vernalization is how many spring bulbs finish their previous season and begin their next. They know that it is winter after they experience a particular duration of a particular chill. By then, they should have finished all growth of the previous season. Afterwards, all new growth and bloom is for the next season. It is how they know to bloom on time for spring.
Dutch iris, freesia, ranunculus, anemone and common narcissus do not need much chill. Tulip, hyacinth, crocus and a few narcissus and daffodil do. Some bulbs that benefit from it get a prechill treatment before coming to nurseries. Prechilled tulip and hyacinth bulbs are sadly unlikely to bloom after their first year. They prefer more chill than they get here.
Otherwise, many spring bulbs are supposedly reliably perennial. Naturally, actual results may vary. Anemone can survive for many years, but might bloom only rarely. Ranunculus may be less perennial, but may also bloom better while it survives. Dutch iris and crocus are unpredictable. Freesia and simple varieties of narcissus are more reliably perennial.
Technically, some spring bulbs are not bulbs. Ranunculus and freesia, for example, grow from corms. Nonetheless, almost all spring bulbs bloom only once annually. Succession planting can prolong bloom. It provides subsequent phases to begin bloom as preceding phases finish. However, phases of reliably perennial bulbs synchronize after first bloom. Summer bulbs and bulb-like plants are seasonable later.
Sunshine promoted bloom to the left. Shade inhabited bloom to the right.
Naked ladies like exposure. Amaryllis belladonna can certainly survive and actually develop lushly healthy foliage in partial shade. However, it needs sunshine to bloom. This picture above, which was recycled from yesterday when I mentioned that I might elaborate on it later, demonstrates how discriminating this species is. As mentioned yesterday, a row of naked lady bulbs extends completely across the picture from left to right. It does not extend only from the left to the middle of the picture, as the bloom might imply. Now that bloom is finishing, foliage will develop throughout the entire row, including the portion of the row that currently lacks bloom, so that the extent of their herd will be more apparent. The lack of bloom to the right is the result of the shade of a densely foliated coast live oak above. Because coast live oak is evergreen, it shades the area below its canopy through winter, when naked lady is also foliated and storing resources for subsequent late summer bloom. Those that do not get sufficient sunshine to initiate bloom within any particular season will be unable to bloom for the beginning of their subsequent season. When we installed these recycled bulbs here, we considered that bloom would likely be inhibited below the coast live oak, and that we would relocate bulbs that were too shaded to bloom, but we expected more of a transition between the shaded area and the sunnier area. This is so blunt, with bloom to the left, but none to the right. At least we now know precisely which bulbs to relocate while they are dormant next summer. Although there is technically no need to relocate them, and they can be adequately healthy here, they would be more appealing within a sunnier situation that would promote bloom.
Gladiolus papilio, butterfly gladiolus has been performing very well, and, unlike the more common fancy hybrid gladiolus, it has been very reliably perennial. It multiplies and migrates like a wildflower. I know that I brag about it more than I should, and I just posted a picture of it for Six on Saturday last Saturday, but it happens to be one of my favorite perennials now. It was a gift from Tangly Cottage Gardening in the autumn of 2018, almost six years ago. Prior to that, I had been wanting to grow perennial gladiolus for quite a while, although I was not familiar with such species. I was only familiar with the common fancy hybrid sorts, which are generally not reliably perennial. Gladiolus murielae, Abyssinian gladiolus that arrived a few years ago as a gift from a neighbor may eventually inhabit a different portion of the same landscape that the butterfly gladiolus inhabits. It neither multiplies nor migrates as much as the butterfly gladiolus, and is a bit more garish in bloom, but is both reliably perennial and compatible with wildflowers, and technically, is probably more appropriate to that particular refined landscape. Various cultivars of Watsonia, bugle lily, most of which also came from Tangly Cottage Gardening, could also inhabit the same landscape. There is no rush to decide anytime soon, and the refined landscapes at work are constantly evolving. Within my home garden, I can be less concerned with how visually compatible some of such species and cultivars are, and be more concerned with growing what I enjoy. After all, that is how I acquire so many odd species and cultivars with so much history and from so many important gardens, and even from so many natural ecosystems. It is what makes my home garden so important to me.
These grew from formerly small and shriveled clumps of tuberous roots.
It is hard to imagine how the small shriveled clumps of tuberous roots of ranunculus, Ranunculus asiaticus, planted last autumn can produce such bright pink, red, orange, yellow and white flowers between late winter and early spring. The two or three inch wide, semidouble or double flowers stand about a foot high, just above their soft deeply lobed foliage. Those of us who did not get ranunculus in the ground last autumn can find blooming plants now. Ranunculus want to be in full sun, in rich, well draining soil.
Deadheading (removal of fading flowers) promotes subsequent bloom; but the season is rather short. Foliage will soon be turning yellow, and will eventually die back. If not watered too much, dormant ranunculus can survive through summer, but should be dug and stored in a cool dry place until next autumn if they are in pots or areas that will get watered regularly.
Hippeastrum papilio, butterfly amaryllis is an uncommon and weirdly epiphytic amaryllis. It may not be as pretty as the countless more colorful hybrids of the genus, but it is more reliably perennial. All of the few specimens that I have observed within home gardens are potted or in the ground, either because they are easier to grow that way, or because those who grow them are not aware that they are epiphytic. After all, that is quite weird.
This specimen, from my Six on Saturday post earlier this morning, is blooming in Brent’s garden. As I mentioned earlier, Brent did not know what it was when he acquired it from a neighbor who left it with him when she relocated. I know that it does not look like much in this picture, but that is only because Brent is an idiot, and takes bad pictures. I intend to get a copy of this butterfly amaryllis for my garden, and may try to grow it epiphytically.
I find this species to be more appealing than prettier hybrids, both because it is reliably perennial, and because it is a simple species rather than a hybrid. This is also why I dug a few naturalized Crinum bulbispermum, Orange River lily bulbs for my garden. They are none too pretty, but will last forever. The same applies to Amaryllis belladonna, naked lady, but they are a bit too prolific and common to not potentially qualify as a weed. Their bright pink floral color can be a bit obnoxious anyway. But of course, that is why I was so very pleased to find a bulb that bloomed white, which is my favorite color. It is multiplying nicely here now, just like I know the butterfly amaryllis will once I get a fresh copy of it.
Early spring bulbs that went into their gardens last autumn are now blooming. Some are already done. Some summer bulbs should begin to bloom as the last spring bulbs finish. A few of them might bloom as late as autumn. Ultimately, like the earliest of spring bulbs, all eventually finish. As they do, their deteriorating flowers will necessitate deadheading.
Deadheading is simply the removal of deteriorating blooms. For many species, it diverts resources from fruiting into other growth. Many species can utilize diverted resources for subsequent bloom. Many become more intent on blooming again after deprivation of any prior fruiting. Spring bulbs instead utilize all their diverted resources for new bulb growth.
For spring bulbs, it is the most practical response to deadheading. Most bloom only once annually. Therefore, they can not divert resources directly to subsequent bloom. Instead, they prioritize vegetative growth of bulbs to grow and bloom for the next spring. They are patient. Reproduction remains their priority. They merely regroup before another attempt.
Because of extensive breeding, many spring bulbs can not produce viable seed anyway. Of course, this does not prevent them from trying. Even seeding or fruiting structures that contain no viable seed can be unappealing. For them, deadheading is merely aesthetic. Some complicated hybrids that might produce viable seed are unlikely to be true to type.
Elimination of viable seed that is not true to type is as practical as it is aesthetic. Without deadheading, such seed can grow into feral progeny. Such ferals may be more similar to remote ancestors than to their direct parents. They can be aesthetically inferior, but more prolific. Eventually, less desirable feral bulbs may displace their more desirable parents.
Because they are small but abundant, some freesia avoid deadheading. Resultant ferals are more fragrant but less colorful with pale white bloom. They are more prolific, so might eventually displace their parents. Common grape hyacinth and snowflake are too florific to deadhead, but are true to type. Actually, they can become invasive in some situations. Montbretia are very likely to be invasive.
The soft pastel shades of these tulips brighten this somewhat shady landscape.
The mild winters that are so comfortable for us are not so desirable to tulip bulbs, which need to be chilled to perform as perennials. Consequently, they behave as brief season annuals locally. The most popular varieties have simple single flowers in white, yellow, pink, red, purple or pinkish orange. Double tulips are rather ruffled. Parrot tulips are larger and even more ruffled. As the names imply, lily-flowered tulips are shaped like small lilies, with pointy flared petals; and fringed tulips have finely serrate petals. Tulips stand between half a foot to two feet tall. Early types are already finished blooming. Late types, particularly if planted late, may bloom as late as early May.
Daffodil bloom from bulbs that were installed last autumn.
The elegant white callas that are just about to bloom in my garden have their origins in the ‘old country’. I obtained them from the garden of my great grandfather Tomeo in my ancestral homeland; Sunnyvale, near San Jose. I am told that my great grandfather planted them decades ago, and had been trying to get rid of them almost as long. I suppose that means that these callas are easy to grow.
My belladonna lilies that got planted two autumns ago are about as old, since they came from the garden of my mother’s mother in Santa Clara, right near Sunnyvale, and were in her mother’s garden prior to that. These bulbs just keep on growing, blooming and multiplying. Although I do not like their bright pink color much, I can not argue with their reliability.
Bulbs and bulb like plants that can take care of themselves and thrive with minimal or no attention are always welcome in my garden. Bright orange crocosmia is perhaps just as reliable, or should I say ‘persistent’, as callas are, and like callas, should be planted about now. Yellow, red, and orange with red flowering varieties are also available. Pink, red, orange, yellow and salmon cannas are in season too. They are easier to contain, but are likewise prolific.
Some of my other favorites that get planted about now for summer bloom want more attention, but are certainly worth it. Dahlias can naturalize if conditions are right for them, but will more likely do better if dug, divided and replanted in enriched soil at least every few winters. They are remarkably easy to propagate. Asiatic lilies likewise prefer to be dug and replanted as their soil becomes depleted, but are not likely to regenerate year after year if ignored.
Honestly though, some of the other summer blooming bulbs and bulb like plants that get planted about now are rather risky. I like to grow gladiolus because they happen to be among my favorite flowers. However, unless they get well amended soil and fertilizer, they do not perform very well, if at all, after their first year. Liatris is not much more reliable. Tuberous begonia is still a mystery to me, since I have not been able to prevent them from rotting in their first year!
Of the many bulbs and bulb like plants that get planted in autumn that are now blooming, grape hyacinth, snowdrop, watsonia, bearded iris, daffodil and narcissus are the most reliable and likely to naturalize, particularly with rich soil and regular watering. Daffodil and narcissus do not spread as well as the others, but are probably the most resilient. With a bit more effort, freesia and crocus can be persistent. In some situations, freesias have actually been known to naturalize as effectively as grape hyacinth.
Other early bloomers (that get planted in autumn) are more demanding. The anemones that I planted in about 1990 survived neglected in my garden for nearly a decade, but probably produced more flowers in their first year than in all subsequent years combined. Ranunculus and hyacinth may do the same if conditions are not just right for them. Tulips are perhaps the most profusely colorful of spring bulbs, but are sadly grown mostly as annuals, since they rarely do much more than produce foliage after their first year.
Hyacinth is one of the earliest of spring bulbs, and is notably fragrant.
If their bulbs got into the garden early enough last autumn, Dutch hyacinth, which are hybrids of Hyacinthus orientalis, are now blooming with cartoon shades of red, blue, yellow, purple, pinkish orange, pink and white. The small, surprisingly fragrant flowers are neatly arranged on plump, bottle-brush shaped flower trusses up to eight inches tall. Their typically arching, rubbery, strap shaped leaves look like small lily-of-the-Nile leaves. Some types have more vertical foliage.
Like many bulbs and bulb like plants, hyacinth are unfortunately not reliably perennial in such mild climates. They prefer cooler winters. Consequently, they are typically grown only as annuals. However, I am aware of hyacinth that not only bloom annually, but have been multiplying nicely over the years in a few local gardens. Their flowers spikes are never as full as they were in their first season, but are appealing nonetheless. I actually prefer the less refined style of naturalized hyacinth.
French Roman or Roman hyacinth, Hyacinthus orientalis albulus, are still somewhat rare, but should be more common since they naturalize more reliably without cold winters. Each bulb produces a few flower stems with smaller and more loosely arranged pink, pale blue or white flowers.
Large hyacinth bulbs are easily forced to bloom suspended just above water by small stones in bowls, or individually in hyacinth glasses (vases that hold bulbs just above water). Forced bulbs should be kept in the dark until rooted, and can be moved out as foliage appears. They are as colorful as tulips and as fragrant as narcissus; but sadly, are not likely to survive after being forced.
